I have known life's hunger,
Though by other name;
It has been dream and singing,
Faith and the whip of shame.

Not until I listened
To sounds of a world swept by,
Did I learn to hear my own heart
And hear all life in its cry.

Not until the hunger
Of all the world was blown
Like a wind against my window,
Could I name my own.

And I have learned that only
This is not proved vain:
Hunger by which a world is fed
As I am fed by pain.